


A Good Man

by Rachel500



Series: Part of the Journey is the End [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avengers Endgame, Depression, F/M, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 06:18:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18733321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachel500/pseuds/Rachel500
Summary: Thor is supposed to be a good King.





	A Good Man

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Avengers Endgame.
> 
> Content warning for depression, grief/mourning and canon character deaths.

_In his dream, Loki sits beside him in the ruins of their stolen Ark.  The bodies of their people lie around them._

_Loki turns to him the Tesseract in hand.  “It’s time, brother.”_

_“I failed, Loki,” Thor replies, “I failed. What kind of King am I?”_

o-O-o

Twenty-three days.

Twenty-three days pass and with each day Thor contemplates the battle; contemplates his mistake.

He had thrown Stormbreaker at the Mad Titan.  He had chosen the torso; he had wanted to inflict damage; inflict hurt and suffering.  He had wanted to look in the eyes of Thanos and for Thanos to recognise just who was going to kill him.

He had been arrogant.

As arrogant and stupid as the youth his father had sent to Midgard so many years before.

Had he learned nothing?

Each night he sits on the roof of the Compound.  He searches the sky for answers.  He replays the battle in his mind over and over. 

Thanos lived to finish the Snap because Thor had erred.

_“You should have gone for the head,” Thanos had taunted him._

His words ring in Thor’s ears.

The echo in his dreams.

In his every waking moment.

Why?

Why had he not cleaved the Mad Titan’s head from his shoulders?

Or the gauntlet from his arm?

Why?

He listens every day as the others piece together the jagged edges Thanos has made of Midgard.  He watches as they confirm governments are crumbling or stabilising.  He hears the names of the fallen; sears each face into his mind.

These are his dead.

They died because of Thor.

Because Thor wanted vengeance for himself.  He had not thought of his people, he had not thought of Midgard, he had not thought of his duty to the Nine Realms. 

His pride.

His vanity.

If he could, he would banish himself. 

He is banished.

He has Stormbreaker but he knows not where his people are to travel to them.  He thinks of the frantic evacuation of the Ark; how they had hurried the majority of their people onto another ship in the hold.  Loki had cloaked them in darkness, shielded them from the Titan’s view and his fury.

His people live.

Or perhaps only half of them now live like all others in the Universe.

The return of Stark stirs him out of the monotony of the days they have lived since the Snap.  The Man of Iron is bitter and angry, and Thor feels his rage as though it lives in his own breast.

But Thor’s rage is mostly for himself still.  For his own mistake.

The warrior woman named Carol plans to find Thanos, take the stones and reverse what has happened.

Thor rouses for the first time in days.

Carol reminds him of Valkyrie, of Sif.

The plan works.

They have Thanos pinned and…

He has destroyed the stones.

Destroyed their chance to rescue their loved ones.

Destroyed Thor’s hope of redemption.

When the blue daughter of Thanos confirms that her father does not lie, he kills Thanos.

He goes for the head.

o-O-o

_In his dream, Loki stands beside him as Asgard burns, shoulder to shoulder, ready to face their sister._

_Loki turns to him the Tesseract in hand.  “It’s time, brother.”_

_“I failed, Loki,” Thor replies, “I failed. What kind of King am I?”_

o-O-o

Rabbit finds the stowaway ship on course for Midgard.  He lands like a feather on top of the ship; he is a gifted Rabbit.  He is the Captain now in truth of the ship whereas before the man named Quill may have argued about that.  But Quill and all Rabbit’s other compatriots are turned to dust.  The blue daughter of Thanos is all that is left of his small family.

Thor places a hand on Rabbit’s shoulder.  “You have been a good friend, Rabbit.  If ever you have need of me…”

“Look after yourself, Thor,” Rabbit says, his large eyes swim with grief.  “You sure we can’t give you a tow?”

Thor shakes his head.  “The people of Midgard are in no shape to receive us just yet.  Our journey will allow us all time to prepare.”

“You have our channel if you need anything,” Rabbit says.

Thor climbs down the hatch.  He raps on the door.  An older man opens it; Thor remembers him from his father's council. 

Thor places a hand on his shoulder.  “Harold, it is good to see you.”

“Your Majesty,” the old man says, tears sliding down his face.  “We thought we might never see you again.” His wizened face crumples.  “My wife, Sire, she turned to ash in front of me, slipped through my fingers.”

Thor pats his shoulder, unable to say anything.  He turns and stops at the sight of Valkyrie.  Relief storms through him at the sight of her. 

“Your Majesty,” Valkyrie says.  “The others?”

“Thanos killed them all,” Thor says, “those who stayed to mask your flight, the mighty Heimdall, my brother…they all died at the hands of Thanos.”

Her dark eyes widen.  “Hulk?”

“Heimdall sent him to Midgard to warn them as his last act,” Thor says, “we should…we should sing songs to his bravery.”

He can hear someone crammed into the small space start to cry.

“We all…we all failed to stop him,” Thor confesses roughly, “and he did what he set out to do; he destroyed half the Universe and the stones.”

“Does he live?” asks Valkyrie tersely.

Thor lifts Stormbreaker.  “Not anymore.”

There’s a cheer but it’s muted. 

Korg raises his hand.  “Uh, Thor?  Is there something different about you?  Did you get another haircut or…”

“He has a new eye,” Valkyrie rolls hers.  “Are we still going to Midgard?”

“Yes,” Thor nods, “we have friends there.  We will be welcome.” He waves a hand around the gathering.  “We have lost many, but we live and we are all that is left of Asgard now.”

Valkyrie nods at him.  “Well said.  We should get you settled.” 

Everyone gives way to Valkyrie and Thor follows her into the ship.  She leads him to a small room.  It has a single bed, a desk and nothing much else within it.

“Rest,” Valkyrie says, “I’ll come and get you for the evening meal.” She leaves.

Thor sits on the bed.  He’s alone.  He drops his head into his hands and weeps.

o-O-o

_In his dream, Loki sits with him on the rock where they had watched their father die.  They stare at the churning sea and the grey skies; the distant horizon._

_Loki turns to him the Tesseract in hand.  “It’s time, brother.”_

_“I failed, Loki,” Thor replies, “I failed. What kind of King am I?”_

o-O-o

Provisions are scarce on the ship but they don’t starve.  There is always food.  But there is only enough, and no-one, not even the King, is allowed to take more than their allotted amount.

Valkyrie is a woman who nobody wants to anger.  She has made and enforces the rules of their ship-board existence; Thor sees no reason to change anything.

But Thor remembers the comfort of the food he’d eaten on Midgard.  After days of nothing but porridge, stew and toughened meat, he craves the taste of something sweet. 

There is also no booze.  No ale. No liquor. 

They cannot drown their sorrows or raise a cup to toast the dead.  Thor wishes he could do both; craves the oblivion of a good drunk.

Each day he wakes.  He drags his body out of the small bed.  He spends time among his people.  He lets them cry upon his shoulders; he hugs the children, plays with them; he trains the men who volunteer for the guard.

He tries to be the King he’s supposed to be.

Yet, he finds himself retreating to his room more often than not; hiding in the solitude of its four walls.

_“You should have gone for the head.”_

In the end he’d gone for the head, hadn’t he?  But the Titan’s words continue to ring in Thor’s ears.  His original mistake haunts him regardless that he had killed Thanos in the end.

Four weeks in, Stark makes contact; he has cracked intergalactic communication.  A channel is opened between Thor’s ship and Midgard.

Thor gathers together a small council as they negotiate with the remaining Midgard authorities for their arrival.  Norway is thrilled at Thor’s request for the Asgardians to essentially return home.  Arrangements are made for them to settle on land near Tonsberg.  The tedium of working out the details chafes at Thor; it was never his strength and eventually he turns the negotiations over to Valkyrie and Harold, a scribe from his father’s former council.

He retreats back to his room. 

He stares at the walls and wonders at the state of Asgard.  He thinks of the golden city his forefathers had built; the prosperity of their people.  The Asgardians do not know hunger, or illness, or lack shelter.  Ragnarok destroyed that security – Thor in bringing about Ragnarok destroyed that security.

There had been no other choice, Thor reminds himself.  Hela had already destroyed the Asgard they knew and loved.  She would have made slaves of the Nine Realms.  She had to be defeated. 

Thor reminds himself that Asgard is not a place, it is a people. 

They have a new home.  They will stand on new ground and they will rebuild.

The idea fills Thor with weariness.  He climbs under the covers of his bed and closes his eyes, shuts out the world.

o-O-o

_In his dream, Loki stands beside him as they watch Vision take his first breaths._

_Loki turns to him the Tesseract in hand.  “It’s time, brother.”_

_“I failed, Loki,” Thor replies, “I failed. What kind of King am I?”_

o-O-o

The early months on Midgard are hard.

Thor drags himself through every day.

He reminds himself he is King.

He is supposed to be helping his people create a new life on Midgard. 

They live for a time on the ship, parking it on the cliff edge.  They are provided with aide by charitable organisations of Midgard including the Maria Stark Foundation.  Thor’s pride stings with each gift of money, food or materials but he outwardly accepts them all with gratitude. 

He is a King and he should provide for his people, but he cannot and so he must accept the help of others.

There is food now; Thor eats his fill.  He seeks out his favourites when he struggles with the day, soothes his rage with ice-cream; with sugary donuts; with chocolate.

Those who are able to wield seidr are invaluable.  His mother’s old hand-maidens, led by the witch Amora, form a small coven with others.  They take the rubble of the cliffs and build.  Within days there is a meeting hall complete with a makeshift throne, and a number of small cottages dotted around the cliff which are enough to house them all.  They carve out the coastline to create a harbour where they can fish.  They create winding roads through the town, municipal areas such as a small school, a training ground, a tavern, and a communal farm.  They create and they shape until the town looks as though it has stood for centuries.

Thor is their King and he should help in the creation, but he has little seidr to offer.  He never paid attention in his lessons and he can only do minor tricks.  He wishes for Loki who has – had his mother’s gift.

There is booze now; Thor drinks his fill.  He ends each day in the new tavern; drinks ale until he can barely stand, can barely see.  He can’t forget the sight of Loki’s neck snapping in the Titan’s grip.

Thor asks Valkyrie and Harold to see to the town’s council and the running of the town.  Valkyrie establishes a small guard.  They set rules and regulations similar to life on Asgard but cognisant of their shelter by the Norwegian government.  

Thor is their King though; his is their monarch with absolute authority; a final arbitrator in New Asgard’s disputes and disagreements.  He is their law.  

But he hates it. The disputes are petty and there is no room for pettiness in their new situation.  He yells as much in the middle of a warring former couple arguing about the custody of a stray dog.

“STOP!” Thor shouts, lightning sparking from his fingers. “OUR PEOPLE HAVE LOST EVERYTHING AND ARE FIGHTING TO SURVIVE AND YOU ARE WORRIED ABOUT WHO OWNS THE DOG!  ENOUGH WITH THIS PETTY BULLSHIT!” He points at a random woman sat at the back of the hall.  “SHE NOW OWNS YOUR DOG!”

He storms out.

Valkyrie finds him in the tavern.   She slides onto the stool beside him and orders a beer.  “This isn’t going to help.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Thor comments and takes a large swig.

Valkyrie doesn’t argue but knocks her own glass against his.  She downs the glass and orders another. 

Thor gets very drunk.  Korg carries him back to the modest dwelling on the cliffside which Thor had claimed for himself.

“I hate it,” Thor says as Korg dumps him on the bed.  “I hate mediating over stupid petty arguments.”

“So, don’t do it,” Korg says in his lilting tone, “you are the King here, right?  Has to be some perks.”

“That is the best advice,” Thor drools.  He passes out.

The next day he makes an edict that the council must do the mediations. 

He retreats to his house.

He sits in the dark and wonders if he cannot provide for his people, if he cannot create a home for them, if he cannot rule them…he wonders what kind of King he’s supposed to be.

o-O-o

_In his dream, Loki lies dead on the ground and Thor weeps for his brother as Jane writhes in the grip of the Aether behind him._

_Loki turns to him the Tesseract in hand.  “It’s time, brother.”_

_“I failed, Loki,” Thor replies, “I failed. What kind of King am I?”_

o-O-o

Thor opens his door and finds Natasha on the other side.

He blinks.

Natasha smiles at him, openly amused, and lifts an eyebrow. 

Thor self-consciously runs a hand down his oversize Captain America pyjamas. 

“Nice outfit,” Natasha says. 

“They were a gift,” Thor replies hastily, “from a friend.”

Natasha gestures at him.  “Can I come in?”

Thor ushers her inside his dwelling.

Natasha wrinkles her nose a little. 

Thor hurries to open a window and to clear a little of the debris littering the living space.  “Uh, my apologies, Natasha, I was not expecting company today.”

“I’m surprised you don’t have a maid or something,” Natasha comments.

“A woman comes every week,” Thor admits, bumping into a pile of empty beer bottles as he picks up his discarded clothing, “Valkyrie insisted.”

“Smart woman,” Natasha says dryly.  “You’re growing your hair again.”

“As are you,” Thor points to her longer locks, admiring the neat braid she wears.  He swipes up some discarded underwear from the floor.

“Why don’t you shower and dress?” Natasha suggests.  “It’s a nice afternoon for a walk.”

Thor concedes.  He dumps the clothes into a basket – he thinks he uses it for laundry.  He takes a cursory shower and realises he cannot remember the last time he bathed.  He catches sight of himself in the mirror and frowns at his image.

His muscles are giving way to fat. 

Too much beer.

Too much fried food (although he maintains fish and chips are the best invention he has found on Midgard).

He realises he cannot remember when he last went to the training ground and exercised with the guard.

Tomorrow, he determines.  Tomorrow, he will begin a diet, fresh food and vegetables; perhaps only one or two beers of an eve.  He will train again.  He can easily regain his former fitness if he so desires. But tomorrow will be soon after; after all, he has a guest.  He dresses quickly in comfortable stretchy denim pants and an oversize sweater. 

He finds Natasha in the small kitchen washing dishes. 

“Uh, thank you, Natasha,” Thor says, “you need not concern yourself with my chores.”

Natasha shrugs and puts the last dish in the rack.  “I had time.”

They put on thick coats and set out.  There is silence between them until they get past the edges of the town and walk along the cliff path.

“I have not seen you in many months,” Thor comments.  She and Barton had paid a visit almost a year before once they had rejoined the Avengers.  Barton had been quiet; heart-sick at the loss of his family.  Thor had sympathised; he too had lost his entire family.

“It’s been busy since Clint left,” Natasha sighs.

Thor winces.  He had read the email she had sent him informing him of Clint’s flight.  He had forgotten.

They come to a standstill and Natasha looks out towards the sea.

“This is a great spot,” Natasha says.

Thor nods.  “It is where my father suggested we make our new home.” He points a little further along the cliff.  “He died right there.”

Natasha grimaces.  “Thor,” she sighs, “I’d like to invite you back to the team.”

Thor stares at her uncomprehendingly.

“Steve is studying, Clint’s gone, Carol’s part-time,” Natasha starts to reel off the roster with a hint of frustration, “we’re short-handed.”

Thor continues to look at her.

Fear is bubbling up inside of him.

Panic.

He cannot do this.

He cannot be an Avenger any more.

He lost.

He lost everyone.

He had failed and…

“Thor!”

Natasha’s shout jars him out of his spiralling thoughts. 

“Are you OK?” Natasha clasps his shoulder and looks at him with concern.

“I’m fine,” Thor says immediately, “why wouldn’t I be fine?  I’m fine.  I’m absolutely fine.” 

Natasha looks up pointedly to where a dark cloud is gathering.

Thor dismisses it with a thought.  He spins away from her hand and walks a few steps, trying to calm his breathing. 

Natasha gives him a moment before she joins him again.  “Do you have someone to talk with?”

“Talk?” Thor repeats.  “I don’t need to talk.  What is there to talk about?” 

Natasha forces him to meet her gaze and carefully, gently, pulls him in for a hug.  “I’ve lost too many friends already, Thor, don’t make me lose you too.”

Thor hugs her back gently.

Eventually, he steps away from her.  “I cannot return,” he says, “I am needed here in New Asgard.”

Natasha doesn’t argue.  She leans in and kisses his rough bearded cheek.  “Take care of yourself, Thor.”

He watches as she walks away.

He stumbles over the ground and trips on a root.  He lands heavily and he grimaces at the sting under his palms from the rough dirt.  His good eye catches the glint of metal.  He slowly reaches out and picks up a shard of metal; there is a rune etched into its surface.

Mjolnir.

He scrambles around, picking up all the shards of the hammer he can find but there are barely any.  He’s left with a handful of pieces. 

He kneels in the dirt and mourns the loss of his hammer once more.

He misses Mjolnir’s presence in his life, the certainty that he was worthy of her.  If she was whole, would she come to him now, he wonders.  Would he be worthy of the power of Thor?

Above him the sky grows dark once more.

o-O-o

_In his dream, Loki stares up at him from the hole in which the Hulk has thrown him._

_Loki turns to him the Tesseract in hand.  “It’s time, brother.”_

_“I failed, Loki,” Thor replies, “I failed. What kind of King am I?”_

o-O-o

Thor is dumped face down into the horse trough.

He comes up spluttering and indignant.

“Are you sober now?” Valkyrie asks bluntly.

Thor swipes his wet locks from his face and tries to untangle his scraggy beard.  “You have no right,” he says as he wags a finger at her.

He staggers to his feet, unbalances quickly and sits down hard on the floor of the stable.  His oversize t-shirt, smeared with what he hopes is chocolate, sticks to his flabby chest and belly.

Valkyrie crosses her arms and glares at him unimpressed. 

“You can’t talk,” Thor says, “you fell off your space ship the first time we ever met.”

Her expression doesn’t soften at the reminder.  “I was drinking myself into oblivion and now so are you.  The difference is that I didn’t have people relying on me.”

Thor’s face reddens with his shame.  He rolls onto his knees and lurches upright.  He uses a post to keep himself there.  “See?”  He proclaims.  “Not drunk.”

“Let go of the post,” Valkyrie orders.

“I don’t have to let go of the post,” Thor counters, “I am your King; I order you not the other way around.  So, no, I won’t get go of the post.”

Valkyrie stares him down.

Thor swallows but he continues to cling onto the post.

Valkyrie sighs and gestures.  “Come on then.”

Thor watches as she strides away and grimaces at the idea of having to follow her.  He takes a step in the opposite direction towards the door.

“Thor!”

He glances back at her furious expression.  He changes direction, surreptitiously reaching out to hold onto posts, to the fencing as he makes his way into the stables with her.

She stops in front of a stall and Thor’s eyes widen at the small white foal with tiny wings.  Its mother, a normal brown mare, lies beside it. 

“A Pegasus?” Thor lowers himself to the ground and stares at it in amazement.  “I have not seen their like on Asgard in years.”

“They need the magic of a Valkyrie to be born,” she informs him.  “I decided it was time.”

“Time?” Thor questions, confused.  “Time for what?”

“To help,” Valkyrie says, “this world needs us.”

Thor laughs awkwardly as panic bubbles up in his chest and shortens his breath.  “No, they do not.”  

“We cannot expect to simply stay here and fish!” Valkyrie complains.  “Our young men and women yearn to be part of something greater.”

Thor shakes his head furiously.  “No, no,” he forces himself to his feet and away from the precious sight of the Pegasus, “no.  That’s final.  I am King.”

Valkyrie sighs.  “Thor, it has been three and a half years since we arrived here.  We’re stable.  Our people prosper but they need to know what’s next.”

“We live,” Thor retorts.

“Is that what you’re doing?” Valkyrie argues.  “You stay in your house, you rarely come to the council, your people hardly see you!” She gestures at him.  “You do not train, you eat and you drink, you lose yourself in imaginary games with Korg and Miek.”

“Hey!” Thor protests.  “I own those games!”

“Your people need their King!” Valkyrie snaps.

“You, you don’t get to tell me what my people need!” Thor shouts.  “You abandoned us for years!  You let us face the elves and the…the Frost Giants…and trolls…you don’t get to lecture me about duty, Valkyrie!” He breathes heavily.  “Where were you when my mother died defending Asgard?  Where were you then?”

Valkyrie holds her ground.  “I was where you are now; in a dark and dismal place.  I believed I had nothing to live for except the next drink.  I was hurt and I was angry.”

“I’m not angry,” Thor denies.

“Yes, you are,” Valkyrie says, “you’re angry at yourself for not being good enough.”

“I am good enough!” Thor states.  “I killed Thanos!”

Valkyrie simply looks at him.  “You saved me on Sakaar, Thor.  You made me realise I had a higher duty and a reason to live.  Our people need you.”

“Do not tell me what our people need,” Thor says.  He turns and staggers away.  He walks unsteadily back to his house.  He nods as people acknowledge him; waves and offers awkward smiles.  He’s aware that he looks…different.

His hair is wet and tangled; his beard scraggy.  He no longer has the muscles of his youth; his belly hangs over his belt. 

He could lose the weight if he wanted, Thor tells himself.

He could exercise and eat better.

But hasn’t he earned this moment of relaxation?  A breather?  A moment where he can eat what he wants, drink what he wants.

He hurries inside his home and shuts the door on the world outside.  He slides down to sit on the floor. 

_“You should have gone for the head.”_

Even now the words haunt him.

He curls up as small as he can and shuts his eyes tightly as though that will drown them out from echoing in his head.

o-O-o

_In his dream, Loki stands with Thor on the bridge outside Asgard; behind them a frozen Heimdall guards the Observatory and the BiFrost._

_Loki turns to him the Tesseract in hand.  “It’s time, brother.”_

_“I failed, Loki,” Thor replies, “I failed. What kind of King am I?”_

o-O-o

He sees their pity.

Thor ignores the rest of the team assembled for their mission to reverse the Snap and sits in the corner.  He drinks his beer, eats his potato chips and indulges in the massive tubs of ice-cream Stark has bought for Banner – Banner who is no longer Banner nor Hulk but a strange amalgamation of the two. 

Banner tries to talk to Thor in quiet words, to offer him a willing ear and a friend.  Thor ignores him for the most part.  He hasn’t seen sight nor sound of Banner since they’d fought Thanos.  There have been no visits, no emails, nothing.  Thor counts him still as a shield-brother – he will always remember that Banner aided him in Sakaar, against his sister, with Ragnarok – but it may take awhile to restore their friendship beyond that.

Barton holds himself aside too.  He has been lost for many years although Natasha is successful in bringing him home to help them.  Thor cannot judge him for choosing to slaughter the criminals of his world; to take his hurt and anger at his loss and use it against those who would hurt others.   

Thor does have some insight into the others although only by email.

The Captain is fond of sending inspirational quotes written on pictures of cute animals.  Thor usually disregards the emails which encourage him to find support groups and therapy.  Natasha’s emails are filled with news and updates.  Thor treasures them even if he rarely replies.  Stark emails occasional pictures of his daughter and sometimes the Man of Iron joins the online game-playing.  He is very good, but Thor is better.

None of them have seen Thor though for a long time and Thor is more self-conscious than ever of the weight he carries; of the difference between his former self and who he is now.

Who he is now.

Thor does not know who he is anymore.

All he knows is that he is no King.

Luckily, the team is too focused on the mission. 

Thor cannot focus on the mission.  He doesn’t want to think about the mission.  Fear and panic overwhelm him every time he thinks about going back in time; about trying to fix things.  What if they just make things worse?  What if he makes another mistake?

But suddenly time travel is possible.  They plot a way to get the stones.

Thor finds himself walking towards the time platform in a horrendously tight suit.  He wants to run away but his fear of doing the mission is strangled for a moment by his fear of looking weak to his team-mates.  They are counting on him.

He stands with them on the platform. 

He can do this.

He can totally do this.

He can…

He can’t do this.

His body is zapped into the quantum space.

o-O-o

His mother is a clever, clever woman.

Thor spends minutes talking with her, drinking in the sight of her.  She was always so beautiful. 

He takes comfort in her.  She loves him even though he has failed.  She loves him.

Her advice resonates with him.

“The measure of a person, of a hero, is how well they succeed at being who they are,” his mother tells him.

Thor knows he struggles every day with who he is.  He thought he once knew; Thor, Prince of Asgard, Defender of the Nine Realms, son of Odin, brother to Loki, the God of Thunder…

Who is he really?

When Rabbit appears with the prize they came for, Thor knows they need to leave.

He tries to tell his mother what will happen but she waves away his words.  Perhaps she has always known her fate.

They are almost gone when something occurs to him.

Mjolnir.

Mjolnir exists here in this time.

Thor flings out his hand and calls his hammer.

For a long second there is nothing but then…

Mjolnir smacks into his hand.

He is worthy.

_He is worthy._

o-O-o

Thor watches over the figure of Thanos as Stark tries to rouse Steven.

They have taken a loss already in their battle.  Their shield-sister Natasha has given her life in order for them to retrieve the stones.  Thor cannot believe she is gone for good.  The stones are cosmic energy; their existence is shrouded in myth and legend.  Perhaps Barton is right that a soul is exchanged forever but Thor will not accept that.

The Compound lies destroyed around them.  They do not know if the others are alive.  If they have survived the blast from the ship which hovers above them still.

Thor calls his weapons.  He knows he is not battle-ready but he cannot let his shield-brothers face Thanos alone.

Their fight is brutal.    

When Steven wields Mjolnir Thor finds himself rejoicing. 

Thanos brings an army.

And the Avengers assemble; all the heroes who fight for good lined up to face their foe.

Thor sees Valkyrie ride ahead of the Asgardians who have come to fight and his heart almost bursts with pride.

The fight continues; hard and fast and…Thor is regretting every mouthful of delicious ice-cream he has eaten, every sip of ale he has drunk…

He no longer has the strength or reflexes to win against Thanos himself.  He sees Steven take damage despite his continuing strength as a super-soldier; he watches as Stark gets repeatedly put down.

He’s thankful when Carol turns up like the furious warrior she is until…Thanos defeats her with the Power stone.

Stark launches himself at Thanos one last time and…

“I am Iron Man.”

Tony Stark has always known who he is; has always succeeded in being exactly who he is; the Man of Iron.

Thor’s eyes fill with tears as he pays witness to his friend’s sacrifice, to his death.

The battle is over; they have won.

o-O-o

Thor spends a lot of time thinking.

Firstly, he eats his salad.  His mother was a wise woman, after all.

Secondly, he resolves to be a better friend. 

He offers condolences to the Lady Pepper; to Stark’s daughter.  He comforts Banner who has tried to save Natasha but could not bring her back, and Barton who feels Natasha’s loss so sharply even in the face of his happy reunion with his family.  He listens to both as they reminisce about her after they attend Stark’s wake.

He offers to go with Steven on his quest to return the stones to their rightful place in the timeline, but Steven rejects his offer.  There is a look about the Captain which gives Thor pause.  Perhaps he is not the only one on a quest to discover who he is.  Thor says nothing; he offers him luck on his journey and gives him Mjolnir.  The hammer must go back to the past too.  His younger self will have need of it.

Finally, Thor makes a request of Rabbit.  He flies him to New Asgard.

Thor calls an emergency council and tells them of his decision, aware that Valkyrie is absent – exercising her Pegasus on the cliffs of their new home.  The council accepts his decision; he sees their relief as well as their regret and cannot begrudge them either sentiment; he is not the King they deserve nor even the King he was supposed to be.

He heads home and gathers a small pack of belongings, says goodbye to Miek and Korg. 

Thor tracks Valkyrie down.

He makes her Queen.  She leads Asgard.  She has done since Thor was taken by Thanos; it is a truth which deserves to be made a reality. 

Rabbit collects him.  Thor stands at the star map with Quill and assures the other man he’s in charge.  Thor doesn’t want to be in charge.  Thor is on a quest to find who he is; to fully succeed in being who he is. 

He knows the path will not be easy.

He has much work to do to regain his sense of self, to patch together his self-worth and his courage; to combat the apathy that still dogs him, the fear which still stalks him, and the panic which threatens to rise with every breath when he considers the journey ahead.

Part of the journey is the end, Thor muses; but every journey begins with a single step.  He takes a step.

o-O-o

_In his dream, Loki stands with Thor in the antechamber before the ceremony where he would become king.  He remembers how he had thought he wanted to be King; had sought the throne so arrogantly certain of his right to it._

_Loki turns to him the Tesseract in hand.  “It’s…”_

_“Time,” Thor takes the image of the Tesseract from him and is not surprised when it fades away; an illusion.  He understands now what his dreams have been telling him for years.  He looks at his brother.  “Are you alive?”_

_He recalls how Stark had mentioned in their mission to retrieve the Tesseract how Loki had taken it and escaped._

_“Perhaps,” Loki shrugs and holds up his hands, “perhaps not.  Perhaps the Tesseract sent me who knows where.  Perhaps your Captain stops my flight to freedom when he returns to set things right. Who can say?”_

_The suggestion his brother lives still…_

_“Loki…” Thor says, his voice choked with emotion.  “I love you, brother.”_

_Loki’s green eyes shine brightly.  “You always were a sentimental fool.”_

_Thor laughs.  He takes in a breath, steadies himself.  He glances around.  “A sentimental fool,” he nods. “you always knew, did you not, that I should not be a King.” He laughs a little.  “Got your wish; I am not King.”_

_Loki places a hand on his shoulder.  His touch feels real._

_“No,” Loki says, “but you are a good man.” His green eyes meet Thor’s.  “That is who you truly are, Thor Odinson.”_

The End


End file.
